


Cut Open

by sootonthecarpet



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Guro, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Vivisection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootonthecarpet/pseuds/sootonthecarpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt <i>So there's a percentage of the Night Vale population born without pain receptors. Neat! But what do they have in that place? I just want Cecil to really, really enjoy poking around in his squishy bits. (Though it's even better if someone else does it. Someone like a perfect, beautiful scientist perhaps?)</i><br/>Basically, Carlos walks in on Cecil masturbating. But, y'know, with vivisections... Neat!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut Open

**Author's Note:**

> Note that Cecil is not quite a standard-issue human, and that is why he does not die of blood loss or shock. This is guro and it's taking place in Night Vale (the best place for guro? ~~other than Desert Bluffs, but there they call it 'vanilla'~~ ), so don't forget to leave your disbelief suspended at the door.  
> Also:  
> THIS IS A FIC ABOUT A SEXY VIVISECTION. IF ANY PART OF YOUR ANATOMY OR SPIRIT REBELS AGAINST THAT PHRASE, I URGE YOU NOT TO READ IT, OR, AT LEAST, TO READ IT AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. I'M SURE IT'S PRETTY DISTURBING WHAT WITH THE EXPOSED VISCERA AND ALL, SO HAVE CAUTION.  
> remember, don't try this at home. you are not cecil. you will die of blood loss or shock.

He didn't usually keep mirrors around, as it was a bit too big of a risk, but this was a special occasion and the mirror was very useful. He took it from where it had been propped up against a large symbol he had chalked onto his wall to keep everything inside, and carefully set it up beside his bed. He batted away a shadowy hand that reached from it. "Shoo," he said to it. "We have an agreement, and this is me time," he added with an obstinate pout, and the shadowy hand withdrew.

Cecil spread the large clear plastic sheet over his bed and the floor around it, as he definitely didn't enjoy having bloodstained bedsheets. He stripped and got out the box from his closet, _that_ box. He set it on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed, propping himself up at a comfortable angle so that he could relax his abdominal muscles and still be able to reach them. He tugged the mirror to a slightly better angle and opened the box, taking out his favourite scalpel. Glancing at the mirror, he aligned the tip of it with the far end of the line of pink, rather recent scar tissue going from the base of his sternum to a little above his pubic bone.

He couldn't do this very often for practical reasons, so it quite delighted him to take the opportunity. He pushed the blade in and drew it up carefully, making a neat incision. He took a second pass, pressing harder, just enough to cut through the muscles. Then he set the scalpel down and pulled at the edges of the cut, hooking a finger under it at about the center, where he had first neatly bisected his navel—long enough ago that only a slight pair of twin dips remained as evidence—and pulled back carefully, feeling the tug at the ends of the incision and going carefully so as not to tear. He didn't have any sort of surgical clamp, and didn't know where to buy one, so he just held his flesh open. He was watching this in the mirror, and he shivered a little as he regarded the narrow glimpse he could get of what was under his skin. He dragged the tip of two fingers up over the organs there—what organs were they? The Night Vale science education program was so vague... He shivered and pressed down slightly. Very carefully, he slid his hand under the incision, resting it against his organs. He didn't press, but he moved his hand in tiny circles, pressing at the edges. He moaned.

Every time, he managed to forget how nice it was to pull himself open like this, to touch places he was never meant to touch... He wrapped his other hand around his cock and gave a few careful strokes, sighing, then let go, staring at the mirrored view of himself as he tucked a fingertip in between the folds of something. Seriously, he needed a labelled diagram. Whatever it was, it was so soft and slick and and hot and remarkably sensitive—he pressed a little deeper with a shaky groan, eyes falling shut.

Someone rang his apartment doorbell. He groaned again, this time in dismay. He pushed himself up and grabbed some of the gauze from the box, holding it to the cut to keep his blood and viscera in place, and walked to the door. He pulled it open, it was probably the Sheriff's Secret Police and they already knew about everyone's masturbatory habits anyway, but oh, no, that perfect hair, that perfect face, Carlos! His heart leapt, and then sank sadly back down because Carlos was now looking at him naked, erect, and vivisected.

"Oh, hi!" Cecil managed, a bit weakly.

"Oh my god!" Carlos exclaimed. "Cecil!" he added, voice cracking. "What's happened? Cecil...!"

"I'm fine, Carlos, just busy," Cecil said.

"You have to sit down," he said, putting his hands firmly on Cecil's shoulders, and Cecil reached up to nudge his hands away, dropping the gauze, and he bent to pick it up and he gasped because something slipped out of place and it was one of the best things he had ever felt and he was quite, quite sure that if he hadn't been so mortified, he would have certainly came. He couldn't refrain from a rather orgasmic sound as he dropped to his knees and tried to rearrange his own organs.

Carlos was staring. "Cecil," he gasped.

"Oh, no, that wasn't pain," he reassured, and then realized what an absurd thing to say that was, because if it wasn't pain, it was certainly, well.

"What happened to you?!" Carlos cried again, dropping to one knee beside Cecil. "Move your hands, let me see—"

"Carlos, stop," Cecil said firmly, gripping Carlos's wrists. "Let me explain."

"No, Cecil, no, let me get you to the hospital...!"

"Shh, give me a few moments. I don't bleed like you do, I'm weird, remember?" He tried to make eye contact, but Carlos's gaze was darting around. Cecil realized that Carlos was terrified for him, which, by the way, made his heart soar, but he put on his 'soothing' voice and did his best to radiate calm. "Carlos, I don't feel pain. This, er, vivisection, it's something I do to myself sometimes, because it feels good. Alright? I'm fine. I've done this before," he assured.

Carlos was staring into his eyes now. "Cecil?" he said, a little breathlessly.

"Don't be frightened. I'm fine."

Carlos swallowed. "Right. Weird. Night Vale," he added with a small gulp, then handed Cecil the gauze and stood up, offering him a hand. "Do you want my help with, uh, that?" Carlos asked, gesturing at Cecil's torso. "I, uh, well. What sort of feeling good did you mean?" He glanced a bit below Cecil's torso. "Oh. Never mind, I noticed. That sort."

"What sort of _help_ are you offering, Carlos?" Cecil wasn't sure if he was allowed to flirt when he was holding his own organs in place (and oh, it felt heavenly,) but he definitely wanted to keep his options open.

Carlos looked at him again, slowly, down and then up again. He gulped a second time. "I could help you back to your bedroom," he said.

Cecil grinned. " _Yes_ ," he said.

For a few minutes, everything was a blur, Carlos's arms around him, pulling him close for a dizzying kiss before supporting him around his shoulders, however needlessly, (Cecil was not sure why, but he did not have too difficult of a time standing no matter how cut open his abdominal muscles were,) and then he was being pressed onto the bed.

"Is that so you could watch yourself, or so you could see what you were doing?" Carlos asked, quietly, as he stepped away, stripping hastily to his underpants, apparently not wanting blood on his clothes.

Cecil's breath caught. "Oh, Carlos," he answered by mistake. "I mean—both. It was both." And then Carlos was sitting across his hips and gently pushing down on his shoulders until he relaxed against the bed.

"Do you have any gloves?" Carlos asked, voice a little rough. Cecil nodded.

"Bottom of the box," he said, "Just on top of the bandages. I bought them but I didn't need them..." Carlos was leaning over him, reaching into the box on the nightstand and pulling out a small box of latex gloves. Cecil's breath hitched. "What are you going to do?" He asked, softly, watching Carlos pull on the gloves, glancing furtively at Carlos's hips, his crotch.

"I'm going to help," Carlos said quietly—no, _seductively_.

Cecil whimpered. "Please," he could only say.

Carlos took up the scalpel. "I'm going to make a few more cuts," he said, "If you don't mind. Just so I can open you wider," he added, meeting Cecil's eyes with something in his gaze, something hot and dark and different.

"Yes—s—s," Cecil groaned, eyelids fluttering. Carlos cut horizontal slits at both ends of the cut, lifted Cecil's flesh in two flaps and held it open, wider than he'd ever made himself.

"Look at that," Carlos whispered appreciatively, eyes fixed on Cecil's organs.

"Carlos," Cecil murmured, quiet and adoring. "I want you to kiss me..."

Carlos did, leaning over, not letting go of Cecil until he was lying flush against him, bare skin pressed to Cecil's—oh—

"Carlos," Cecil was gasping against his lips.

Carlos ground his hips gently, shifting his entire body, rubbing his torso against Cecil's bared viscera. Cecil said something else, but it was muffled, because Carlos was kissing him more earnestly, more deeply, than Cecil had ever been kissed before. Carlos's skin was soft, but it felt so rough against him like _that_ and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, pulling him closer. Carlos was moaning too, rutting against Cecil's hip.

"Ah," Carlos gasped, drawing back, composing himself. "Cecil, you're beautiful," he said, and Cecil stared, hardly registering the words because perfect, perfect Carlos was looming over him, breathless and bloody with his perfect hair mussed because the things he was doing to Cecil were _perfect_.

"I love you," Cecil said, sounding like he was begging for something (which he was).

Carlos rested his hand on Cecil, holding him open again. "I'm going to reach between your organs, okay?" he asked. "I bet I can get much deeper than you can..."

" _Yes_ ," Cecil groaned, rolling his hips up slowly. Carlos pressed his hand in carefully, sinking in up to the wrist, tilted his arm to a different angle and all of Cecil was wrapped around his forearm, Carlos's forearm was inside of Cecil, oh, the rubber gloves were definitely useless now...

"Carlos..."

"How's that?"

"So good..."

Carlos shifted gently, then withdrew his arm. Cecil gasped, dismayed at the emptiness, but staring at Carlos's arm, bloody to the elbow.

"Don't worry, I'm not stopping," Carlos assured, slipping in carefully again, not as deeply, but more careful, focused. He gripped something, squeezed gently, and Cecil cried out.

"This is probably your liver," Carlos told him, "Although I'm not so sure, considering what people from this town tend to look like on the outside..."

" _Fuck me_ ," Cecil gasped out.

Carlos was momentarily taken aback. "Cecil, are you—Cecil?"

"I want you to have sex with me," Cecil told him.

"What are we doing right now, then?" Carlos asked, pressing his hips against Cecil's pointedly.

"No, I mean, I want you to keep doing this, but with—" he blushed for a few moments, then assured himself that there was no point in embarrassment when much more of Carlos had been inside much more of Cecil than what he wanted to suggest. "I like anal penetration," he said, "And I think you should do it to me. You're plainly enjoying this—" he reached down, brushing his fingers over Carlos's erection, which was still covered by his clothing, "And if you want to, I think we should definitely. You know."

Carlos moved his hand slowly, and Cecil was whimpering, moaning.

"Cecil, I would be delighted," he said quietly.

"Good," Cecil said, biting his lip. "Take off your underwear."

Carlos sat back and stood up.

"I've got—I keep my condoms and lubricant underneath the vibrator in the bottom drawer," Cecil said, indicating it with a loose gesture. "For when I can't cut myself open," he added, and Carlos shivered a little.

"Do you like it?" Cecil asked. "That I dissect myself, that it feels good?"

Carlos met Cecil's eyes and got out of his underwear, then, without breaking eye contact, gripped his own cock and leaned closer to Cecil. "You have no idea," he whispered, stroking slowly.

"Bottom drawer," Cecil said, insistently. Carlos smirked a bit and stepped away.

He returned after a few moments, gently separating Cecil's legs and sitting between them, pulling off one of the gloves.

"It's a little tame," Carlos said teasingly as he worked a finger into Cecil.

"I like it, Carlos... Why aren't you touching me?" he asked, arching his back a little.

"Here?" Carlos asked, pressing gently at Cecil's exposed organs, and Cecil nodded.

Carlos smiled tenderly and then—gently, so gently—he pulled out a loop of something (what are those called? Intestines? Cecil later asked himself, still utterly uneducated on the matter,) and let it rest on Cecil's torso. Cecil reached up and brushed his fingers across it, shivering. Carlos pushed a second finger into Cecil's ass, which was, if he was honest with himself, nowhere near as nice to the touch as the hot, slick press of organs, but he filed that realization away for later sexual fantasies. He leaned down, propping himself on an elbow, and pressed his lips to the small loop of withdrawn intestine, and Cecil gasped. "Carlos?" he asked shakily, as Carlos crooked his fingers gently and sucked a bit of the organ into his mouth. "Oh, Carlos, I can't—please," he whispered, before dissolving into complete incoherence with only a few weak cries of 'Yes' making themselves discernible as Carlos tongued at his viscera and worked him open with what was definitely three fingers now, although Cecil couldn't remember when the third had gotten there. "Now, please," he managed, weakly, slipping his fingers into Carlos's curls, and Carlos grazed his teeth along something important before drawing up and away, rolling a condom onto himself and then, deciding he didn't want to have to clean semen out of an open wound, rolling another one onto Cecil. Cecil's legs wrapped around Carlos's waist, and Carlos pushed in, hands on Cecil's sides, holding the injury almost shut around the exposed loop.

"Carlos," Cecil was saying in a soft groan, over and over, a groan that got a little louder with every thrust Carlos made. Carlos was so absorbed that he was hardly aware of his own vocalizations, although Cecil was listening to him intently. Cecil reached up to fist his own cock and Carlos carefully tucked the exposed loop of intestine back into its proper place, getting a tiny cry of pleasure in response. Carlos pushed his thumbs together over the incision, holding it shut, thrusting them under the surface, moving them against Cecil in small circles. That was all it took for Cecil, who came spectacularly, Carlos's name in breathless tones on his lips. Carlos leaned down, crushed his mouth to Cecil's, a few desperate moans as Cecil gripped his hair, long, desperate thrusts into him, everything was perfect, perfect, and then he was drawing back, feeling as limp and exhausted as if he were the one lying cut open.

"Oh," Cecil whispered, catching his breath again. Carlos forced himself to stand and rummaged through the box until he found what he was looking for. He patched Cecil up with sutures and soft bandages, and then spent about an hour washing blood from himself in the shower while Cecil watched him from a comfortable seat on the edge of the sink, smiling at Carlos fondly and a little smugly.

"Why did you come over?" Cecil asked as they eased into bed, the plastic sheet having been rinsed off, rolled up, and put away.

"Wanted to see you," Carlos said quietly, tucking his face behind Cecil's ear.

"Oh," Cecil said. "That's good."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing guro stuff (⊙﹏⊙✿) I hope it is okay because I worked very hard on it. I've always really liked guro, like, _always_ , and I was dismayed I couldn't draw it very well but I never thought of writing it and so this opportunity made me very pleased.


End file.
